Throwing up words

 He comes to our house in an oddly hours, as if it's some _____ house, calls as if he owns us. He accuses us, ask questions as if we are his slaves. We hide our joys under the mask, just because of him. I want to confront him and get my answers, but stop because of my family's dignity. I know who supports him from my family, from where he gets his strength like a man high on opium. But she will never tell me has shut the doors forever whenever confronted met with aloof silence. He acts like he is a well-wisher, ha! What a joke, is it? He is cursing us inside but, have this fake devilish smile on his face. He is pleased with our misery and jealous of our joys. I remember how he came into our lives, it was so un harmful position which he took. But gradually he applied break and defeat on us, she who loved me the most slapped me for the first time. I was too young to understand it, but he was slowly taking posession of her. Giving small doses of heroin everyday, making her leave u...

 Sitting in the room, I could hear the minutes passing by I was alone in the house, silence acting as an uncalled companion. But the silence was chaotic instead of peace I was flooded with questions and doubt on oneself. The silence was piercing through my ears, making me nervous, goose bumps surrounding me. I stood up from the sofa and decreased the fan's speed. I always craved for being alone for sometime to gather my thoughts. But this loneliness, this silence was killing me slowly, breaking my vision and grasping all my theories. I felt numbness taking over me, too tired to fight with it. I allowed him to take over, to take my worries and provide me peace which I crave for. My meditation broke when someone knocked the door, my uncalled partner slowly left my side, with a promise of returning again. I recollected myself and held upon the door for the real chaos to enter. -Shruti Upadhyay

 People say addiction is bad but they ever thought what is the reason behind it? The answer is fat no because it's the society that force people to indulge in these activities. There are different kinds of addictions and people choose their addiction based on which pit society throws them in. A high school kid is addicted to drugs, smoking and alcohol. There could be many reasons for him/her to choose this path. Before stating the reasons let me tell you a story.  I was 10 years old when my uncle's daughter came to live with us for a few days, she was 2 years older than me and was very intelligent. My parents adored her and were mesmerized by her learning skills. One day my mother was going to market, I asked her to bring mangoes for me and my cousin asked for apples. When my mom returned she just brought apples and said-" I am so sorry dear, the money got over after I bought vegetables and apples. I will bring them next time, I promise." I was really agitated with th...

 She was continuously knocking at my door thinking I would embrace her again. I still remember how fragile she looked when I met her, we have so many memories together which I can't forget by. The day she came to me was a stormy day of my life, being betrayed was never a goal in my life but that day I was betrayed. She became the cocoon of my hurt worm, she filled me with so many things that led to my trust. How foolish I was to leave all my known because of her, how much despair I was to choose her over the others. She manipulated me in this pit of loneliness, she left me there and come only when someone tried to take me out from there. She said she is doing these for my own good, but I realised now, she is a selfish fox whose stomach never remains filled. I have locked the memories and have threw them far from me, I would never let this fragile looking monster again in my life. It wasn't easy to come out of that pit but someone who didn't fear her rescued me. Maybe I woul...

 Swinging to and fro on the tree swing, on the road with no one to be seen. People say that this place is haunted, but that's the only place where I feel wanted . The tree seems old and wise, suddenly there is some noise, ahh it's just a mice. Looking up in the sky, the clouds seems dark and angry, maybe clouds introspection has been broken because of me. The land seems barren and dusky, but I feel more attached to it rather than my father who is devoted to whiskey. Maybe the tree has it's own story, seems like it's eyes are tired remembering the clash of whigs and tories. -Shruti Upadhyay

 Just want to run away from all the chaos, take your hand and go to a place where we can find tranquility. Travel on those roads which are unseen and untravelled. Maybe those roads are unwanted but with you I am sure these roads will be the hidden paradise for me. Lying in the heart of nature talking about the universe and your heart. I want to know the slopes and steeps of your feelings. Get lost in the serene beauty of nature and your warmth. Lying on the unkept grass with tickling water of rain on my face, want the time to stop and just lay there for eternity. Making face of our loved ones in the clouds, existing on the food of love. Drawing patterns on the soil and talking my heart out without moving my lips. Welcoming our neighbour ants and listening to their stories of adventures. Tracing the roots of our ancestors and thinking why we need city when we have this.. -Shruti Upadhyay

 This is the word I have heard more than thousand times. But the pun here is I don't believe in this word. This is the first time I am acknowledging it, i earlier used to trust people but now I have learnt, people have the tendency to stab at your back. Sometimes, I feel I am the modern Julius Caesar who has been betrayed by my own people . Won't it be fun if there's a play written on me - "Modern Julius Caesar: a story of betrayal". But there would be just one problem , my half of the play would consist of climax. " Et tu Brute", is the most iconic line of the play. For me it would be "Et tu *inserts ex friends names....*" and the list goes on. I would be stabbed by more than 60 people.  Who I am, speaking against these people when I don't even trust myself? My father had always taught me never trust anyone more than yourself. But being the ignorant teenage I did the opposite (sighs in Lara Jean's voice), and ultimately felled on my fa...

 My voice is trapped due to societal norms, I can't say the truth cuz of dignity of yours. But it hurts me everyday to see the thorn like lies covered with flowers. It kills me whenever comes the call, why can't people accept their follies and falls? They say I don't know anything, I am naive but what about the imprints that can't be vanished from my brain? Cheating is wrong I have learnt from the start, but what if those who teach you are doing wrong? Many people surrounding me, but no one to talk falling in this mud going deeper down, I can't walk. -Shruti Upadhyay

 I thought I would write something hopeful in this tough times. I took my pen and notepad and went to the roof, maybe nature becomes my muse. I always loved evenings, cold breeze crossing across your face, trying to find your beloved's face in the midst of rays. Even though the evening was cherry and peaceful there was something eerie about the evening. There was an underlying gloom well hidden in the chirps of birds or maybe it was hoots. I don't know what it was but it seemed like an intuition about the upcoming storm which will be wild. I don't have visions; I am not a sufi nor a scholar. But maybe it was a call or alert just like the thunder before the flood that swept away everyone except Noah. I was deep in my thoughts and didn't even realised that 3 hours have already passed, I registered it when there was a call for me coming from down. I collected my unused notepad and pen and descended down with a heavy heart and thousands of questions swirling by.  -Shruti Up...

 The power of weakness started engulfing me, it made me dizzy and my mind blank. My muse was lying on the bed, whimpering and babbling Maybe, she wants me to jot one last novella. I am being transported into another world, where there's happiness and no curse. I thought myself, is it really a curse that has fallen on us? Or is it the consequences of our dead done? My muse reached out for my hand, I came out of my world to the reality in front. She looked into my eyes, searching for the quest of rebel which is long gone. She is expecting me to protest, to change the world. But has she forgotten that I am already dead? Dead because what's the point of living when you can't do anything but just watch and weep. Dead because I can't blame those who have lead us to our own tomb. My muse's hold on my hand starting falling, her face turning into ecstasy. A large drop comes out of my eyes, I got up and started preparing for the burial for my muse's demise.  -Shruti Upadh...